


Helping Hands

by Froggiespit



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Fjord is trans ok, M/M, also caduceus is ace but isn’t too bothered in things if his partner is careful, he just is i dont make the rules, there could be a part two who knows!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-13 21:29:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21004460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Froggiespit/pseuds/Froggiespit
Summary: Fjord cant sleep. Caduceus helps.





	Helping Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys like it! Accompanying Art to be posted asap!

Fjord isn’t the best at telling time without the help of the sun above, but he assumes it must be about 2 in the morning. It’s painfully quiet, the air is sticking to his body just as much as the sheets are. It’s hot here, the climate sticky and clinging to everything. It sort of reminds him of the sea in the early morning, but its all wrong. This isn’t his home. There’s a hollow weight on his chest and he shudders uncomfortably as he turns onto his back. 

“Fuckin” He scrubs a hand down his face and sighs heavily through his nose. Usually on nights like this on the ship there were many surefire methods to lull him to sleep. He would count the waves lapping against the hull of the ship from where he lay in his bunk, or try to match his breathing to those around him. Sometimes he would hear another sailor’s breath hitch with a gasp or he could hear the slick slide of skin and he wouldn’t need to turn his head to know what was happening. Sabian indulged more often than others in the hull and there were times Fjord would slip his hand down his front only feet above him and copy his motions, letting himself go for even just a little. He always did sleep so soundly afterwards, now that the stress was removed from his body and he felt loose enough to close his eyes. 

It wouldn’t hurt.

Fjord eyes the door for a moment, trying to discern through the dark to see if he’d locked it. He isn’t sure, but the only other person bound to be awake is Caleb and his room was far enough away. There’s a moment where he tried to talk himself out of it but its cut short when he lets his thighs fall open slightly. Fjord flattens his palm against his inner thigh and drags up, brushing his fingers against the jut of his hip and farther up onto the soft of his stomach. His other hand comes up to tease at his nipple and spread open-palmed across his chest and ribs, just feeling himself over. It really has been so long since he’s been able to indulge like this, so he definitely isn’t in too large of a rush. The half-orc sighs when his fingers dip below his waistband and curl against the short hairs there. His eyes fall shut and he lets himself wander. There was that time with Avantika and he remembers it vividly. She ground down onto his tongue and made him cry in the best ways possible all before fucking him to the brink of unconsciousness and back. It’s enough to encourage him to slip a digit between the heat of his cunt, gathering slick and spreading it across his cock. He jolts a little when the pad of his thumb catches beneath the sensitive hood and causes him curse. He’s already this sensitive and he’s hardly committed to touching himself yet. Fjord’s fingers spread himself, sliding up to form tight circles around his cock, a pleasant heat there, and he turns to press his mouth into his shoulder. Sure, he isn’t loud necessarily, but he isn’t taking chances. 

Fjord builds like that for a moment, rubbing at his clit with one hand and tweaking a nipple with the other. His breath comes out in hot puffs through his nose, his cheeks a deep flush at the stimulation. Sure, he could come like this with no trouble at all, but what’s the fun in that? Fjord slips a digit into his slick entrance and keens at the intrusion, a small noise escaping his lips. Even one finger alone adds this delicious pressure and he pumps it slowly, crooking it every few seconds or so. Soon, far too soon, one isn’t enough and Fjord’s hips stutter as he adds another, having to focus on biting down on his lip to prevent any noises from escaping. It’s early and he really doesn’t want breakfast conversation to be trained on him getting off too loudly. 

Those fingers pump at a slow rate at first, just feeling himself out, and more so grinding down on them than anything. After a few moments of this building heat in his thighs Fjord rolls into his stomach and lifts his hips so he can have a better angle. He hasn’t touched himself in so long it seems and so he’s already quivering, already getting close to that sharp edge. 

Fjord’s thumb swipes circles around his clit in time with his thrusting fingers and he has to muffle a moan in his pillow, speeding up so that there’s a slick rhythm in the air that makes him groan. If someone heard, there would be no telling whether or not he was fucking someone else or if he were by himself—but it doesn’t matter because his mind is roaming across encounters as it tries to pick up the slack. He isn’t the most experienced, but he’s imaginative enough to be. He remembers earlier that day at dinner how Caduceus talked so sweetly to him, how he gently covered Fjord’s hand with his own. He has big hands, probably strong too, and he cant help but let the firbolg occupy his thoughts as he works. They had stew, something hearty the tavern happened to serve, and every time any gathered on Caduceus’ lip he chased after it with his tongue. Fjord hadn’t meant to stare as long as he had, but gods, he had a long tongue. He hadn’t been in the headspace at the moment, but now he cant help but ponder just what that tongue could do. He closes his eyes against the fabric of his pillow, moving his hips down on his fingers shakily as he thinks about how nice Caduceus’s hands would feel wrapping around his hips, how his cock is probably long enough to push the air from his lungs with every thrust, if he would clean him after with his tongue, taking Fjord apart even after he thought he had reached his limit. 

His mattress creaks a little with the uneven thrusts as he gets a little desperate, his breaths coming out labored and hot as his brow bunches. Fjord knows it won’t be long now, so he doubles his efforts, letting a few strained moans slip through. The room sounds absolutely sinful at this point, the beautiful mix of his moans and the rhythmic creaking of the bed making Fjord’s head spin. He’s so so close now, breaking out into a near sob at the hot ache in his dick before he manages to muffle himself with his free hand. His eyes are rolling back behind his closed lids and his brow is dotted with sweat and he’s so close, just nearly there—

And then there’s a knock at his door.

Fjord jumps out of his skin, quickly slipping his fingers from his cunt and shivering at the sudden loss. It fucking hurts to stop this close, but he has the strongest feeling he shouldn’t continue with someone so close by. He takes a moment to compose himself, making sure his breath is even enough to speak normally over the pounding in his ears. 

“Ah, hello?” His voice sounds a little unsteady and he clears his throat, trying to snap out of it. 

“Mister Fjord? Are you alright?” There’s that deep, rumbling baritone of a voice that shakes him in the most wonderful ways even while muffled through a door, and Fjord curses. Of course it’s Caduceus. Of course, because who else would it be at such a time? 

“Fine! I’m fine, just had a bit of a nightmare” Fjord chokes a little on the execution, stumbling over that last detail a little more than he would’ve liked. 

“Would you uh, would you let me come in?” 

Of fucking course I would, you could do anything is what he wants to say, but he stabilizes himself, wiping his hand on the shirt tossed over the side table and smoothing his hair down with the other. He probably looks the very vision of debauchery at the current, and certainly isn’t prepared for Caduceus to properly judge him on it. 

“Just a moment—“ he manages to slip his smallclothes up over his hips and he winces at how soaked and cold they have gone in the short time they’ve been off. Fjord makes one last effort to cover his tracks and bunches the blankets around his lower half, hoping to hide the general shakiness of his legs. “Go ahead” 

Caduceus, ever polite, waits a moment longer before he slowly opens the door and lets himself in, shutting it behind him just as slowly as if he doesn’t want to wake the house. 

“I was hoping you’d be awake. Sorry to hear about your nightmare—I, would you want to talk about it? Talking sometimes helps.” 

Fjord would have no problem talking to Caduceus after so much time traveling together, if only he had any actual dream to discuss. Ukatoa hasn’t made much of an appearance now that he was in the comfort of Melora’s graces and he feels it might be a little sacrilegious to suggest she was the reason for his false nightmare. Fjord feels as if he’s floundering but finally comes to a conclusion to entirely and completely lie. 

“He uh, he was grabbing me, pulling me down into the cold...into the cold—water, cold water. I felt weak. Couldn’t fight him.” He stumbles a little over the lie given his state, but feels confident enough to conclude he’s done his job. 

There’s a wide palm over his shoulder and Fjord forces himself to make eye contact with the man who he credits with saving him at least part of the way. 

“Do you wish to speak with her? She might be able to provide you with relief of sorts.” There’s that rumbling again, settling into the bones at his sternum from almost 3 feet away. Caduceus sits at the edge of the bed, still giving him enough space. 

“No, that’s quite alright I ought to sleep” Fjord says a tad too quickly and Caduceus’ eyebrow cocks with his head. 

“You...do not wish for her guidance? It is intervention from The Wildmother herself, Fjord.” 

“Ah, no. It’s a bit early to be doing such rituals, isn’t it?” 

“She doesn’t sleep, Mister Fjord. Neither will you at this rate.” He’s staying it so matter-of-factly and Fjord sighs a little shakily at the thought of Caduceus humiliating him right now. He feels incredibly guilty, that perhaps he’s overstepping his bounds, but there’s that steady flame in his blood and it’s pushing his shaking hands closer to Caduceus. 

“Your hands shake when you lie.” 

“I beg your pardon?”

There’s warm hands at his. 

“Your hands shake when you lie.” 

“They don’t.” They do. 

“Would you mind telling me the truth? What’s really bothering you? You sounded pained.” His voice is so soft, a hand coming up to card through his hair in such a caring way and Fjord presses into the touch guiltily, fluttering his lashes a little. He doesn’t respond. 

“Is what you’re doing helping?” 

“What?” 

“Is touching yourself like that helping?” 

“I was asleep” 

“You weren’t. I can smell it here.” He smiles knowingly, giving him a look that suggests he not be ashamed, but he is anyhow. 

“I couldn’t sleep.” And Fjord gives up, sagging a little at his admitting. 

“Would tea help? I can make some, It would be no trouble at all—“

“This usually does it. I just didn’t get to…well, finish” 

Caduceus’ mouth forms into an O and he nods, pressing his lips together into a line when he realizes he had interrupted.  
“I should really let you get your rest, I'm sorry to have interrupted.”

He starts to rise from where he’s sitting at the bed, but Fjord grabs his arm gently and looks at him in a way he should be embarrassed at. 

“You don’t have to. You’re allowed to stay if you want to. I want you to.”

Caduceus resettles and he’s smiling, his shoulders rounding as he shifts his posture to match Fjord’s height. It’s sort of cute and doesn’t go unnoticed. 

“Can I help? I think I might like to help.” He speaks so sincerely, as if it's only helping him carry something a distance or make dinner, not making Fjord come.

Fjord chokes a little on his own saliva in surprise and coughs, his head nodding in surprise. “You can, yes, I think you should.”

“Good, because you smell really really nice and it’s driving me a little crazy” He chuckles to himself and sets his hair over one shoulder, his hand sort of reaching to hover over the heat of Fjord’s flushed skin. 

“I’m not very sure that I know what to do, I’m sorry.”

Holy shit. Fjord’s hand relaxes over Caduceus’ fingers, pulling them towards himself and against his collarbone, his thumb and forefinger gentle against the base of his throat. 

“You can kiss me if you want. I’ll tell you what’s okay.”

Caduceus is slow to move, but he’s enthusiastic in his efforts, his fingers pressing a little into the heated skin before he leans in to kiss him. Fjord has had a few kisses in his time, and for the most part he had thought they can’t be much different. He’s extremely wrong. Sabian kissed hard and enough to make him gasp for air, Avantika kissed languidly and with motive, but Caduceus kisses genuinely. It’s soft, but slotting perfectly against his own lips. He needs a little instruction, so Fjord tilts his head to the right and slides his hand up into his undercut, right against the scalp. Caduceus makes a rumbling noise in his chest at that, and Fjord absolutely throbs between his thighs. He can feel slick gathering and running at the juncture of his thigh and he breaks away, helping to move Caduceus’ hand downward against his sternum and just above his small clothes. 

“Touch me? You’re allowed to.” He’s mumbling against his lips, trying to be ever so careful of the blunt ends of his tusks when he nips at his lip, trying desperately to get another noise out of him. Caduceus slides his hand down to press gently between Fjord’s thighs, grinding the heel of his palm against the damp warmth of the fabric. It makes him shiver, his other hand moving up to muss up Fjord’s hair. 

“You’re handsome” The firbolg breathes, smoothing over his white streak with his thumb. Fjord is so so warm and Caduceus can’t stop his pressing hands and neither is Fjord. “But I wanna feel you. Can I?” He plucks gently at his soaked small clothes, trying to nuzzle his lips against Fjord’s jaw. 

Please feel me. Touch me. Use me. Do something to me— Fjord nods adamantly, shuddering a sigh when Caduceus slips a finger underneath the fabric all at once. It’s like being shocked, like the burn of water in your lungs, entirely consuming and completely terrifyingly good. Fjord’s just about to grind his hips against Caduceus’ touch when suddenly it’s gone, a whine building in his throat when he discovers that his smallclothes are being stripped away. 

There’s a brief moment where Fjord feels over exposed and he presses his thighs together, trying to cover himself. Caduceus sets the soaked fabric to the side and instead rakes the blunt ends of his nails up Fjord’s knee and into the slow spread of his thighs until he’s hardly brushing against his cock with his knuckles. Fjord’s shaking a little, his skin erupted in goosebumps and his heart pounding in his ears.

He can’t count on one hand the amount of times he’s slowly touched himself thinking of Caduceus, the times he’s fucked into his own hand, his other palm clasped tightly over his mouth to keep his secret. It felt wrong, it always felt so so wrong that he came so hard when he thought of a large, velvety hand wrapped around his throat or that gravelly baritone egging him on. 

“You’re so warm.” Caduceus practically breathes rather than talks, as if he’s taken aback by the wholeness of it all. There’s an experimental press against him before Caduceus drags his finger through the slick folds and over his cock. A muscle in Fjord’s stomach tightens and he sighs, squeezing his eyes shut. It’s a lot at once, but he’s craving so much more, hanging his head a little against Caduceus’ shoulder. He breathes deep, a staggering breath, enjoying the closeness and overall care he’s taking with him. Caduceus smells nice, well maybe not conventionally so, but there’s this warm, almost spicy smell in his hair and he loves it. 

Caduceus’ finger presses between the heat of his legs, grinding along with the small of his palm, not insisting on much else than the current, but not out of disinterest. Its out of general care and trust, and that alone makes Fjord’s stomach drop as if he’s falling. He rolls his hips a little against Caduceus’ hand and drags his bottom lip just above his collarbone. It’s unbelievably soft there and he almost feels bad for how he scrapes his teeth there, until Caduceus presses a little more insistently against him.

“You can, uh, you can…” he’s at a loss for words really, Fjord’s brain seemingly too scrambled and flustered too ask for what he needs. But if there’s one thing that Fjord really does love about the firbolg is that he always knows what someone needs: there’s no need to ask. He pulls back for a moment to gather more slick around his finger before he presses in carefully, listening for any sounds Fjord might make.

There’s a strangled sound that dies in his throat, his thighs twitching and spreading a little further to accommodate him. He nips at the sensitive skin of Caduceus’ neck, his free arm moving to wrap around him to support himself. Caduceus sits back a little against the headboard and withdraws, sort of motioning for him to turn around. 

“Here, might be a little easier if you lay against me—yeah like that, see?” Hands settle on Fjord’s hips as he presses his back to Caduceus’ chest, sliding down his inner thighs to crane them apart again, helping him to get comfortable there. There’s a brief moment where Fjord just focuses on the feeling of Caduceus’ pulse thrumming against his spine, sort of taken by how domestic it feels he turns his head back to kiss him. Its hungry, insistent, and Caduceus quickly replaces his hand, sliding his finger back into him to pump slowly along with each pass of his thumb over his cock. He’s never really done this to anyone before, but he’s certainly done it a fair amount of times to himself and is entirely familiar with what feels good. Fjord makes a low moan against his lips and he swears he can feel Caduceus smile.

“That’s good, you don’t have to be too gentle, I’m pretty loosened up from before” He doesn’t want to sound pushy, but he’s convinced he might actually die if Caduceus doesn’t fuck him like he means it. He’s already aching from having been so close before, but now even more so with how sweetly he’s thrusting that digit in and out of him, crooking it perfectly. 

“Tell me what you like? I don’t want to disappoint” He sounds a little insecure maybe, and Fjord nods shakily, his voice breaking when Caduceus withdraws to add another finger. He feels so full there, so taken care of, and he claps a palm over his mouth to keep in a sob. 

“Fuck, that’s good yeah, okay…” Fjord drops his hand and lets his head fall back against Caduceus’ shoulder. His breath comes out punctuated and short with every slow thrust, the muffled constant meeting of skin against skin making his ears burn. Fjord shivers and rolls his hips back up into his palm, panting when Caduceus gets bold and thrusts particularly hard, pressing perfectly against his cock. He finds himself nodding aimlessly, trying to let him know its good when his words are failing him, only able to choke out a word at a time.

“Faster? Please its good, you’re so good. Just a bit faster please.” God he hopes he’s being quiet enough, that not a single noise can escape these walls and that he could sit here forever in his arms, letting Caduceus take him apart so diligently. Gods, he listens so well, his fingers speeding up and stoking that fire in his belly, making his thighs quake. He gives a sob, covering his mouth again before Caduceus’ other hand pries it away.

“Don’t...you sound nice, please don't hide it? I like it.” Caduceus practically groans into his ear and Fjord’s eyelids flutter at the vibration against his back. He sounds sort of breathless and Fjord cranes his neck to look at him, surprised at how flushed he seems. 

“I’m gettin’ close Caduceus, I’ll be loud, I can’t—“ he whines, nearly sobbing when Caduceus hooks his fingers just right, training there with each thrust. “There, that’s good, there.” His voice breaks and Caduceus sighs, nodding against him.

“Be loud then, please? Be loud? I love hearing you feel good.”

How the fuck could he say no to that? Fjord gasps an “okay” and leans into him, letting his eyes squeeze shut. Its good, its so fucking good, and he can’t think straight amidst the fire licking at his nerves. His thighs are shaking on either side of his hand and he whines, nearly coming on the spot with how close he is. It almost hurts how hot his body feels and with how close he’s been.

“Please Caduceus, touch my cock, please please” 

He listens, thumbing over his clit in tight circles, and Fjord’s body freezes up with a strangled cry as he tumbles over the edge. There’s a warm gush of fluid and Caduceus clamps his hand over Fjord’s chin, realizing how loud he actually can be when he comes. Maybe he wasn’t over exaggerating after all. But he doesn’t care, being far too focused on the flutter of him around his fingers and how his cock pulses against him. Caduceus himself isn’t one to really experience much sexual attraction, but this is good, this is more than good. Its nice to be able to help him like this, but for once in his life he sort of wants something else. 

“Can I try something? I think maybe I want to clean you up?” He drops his hand after a moment, brushing the soft of his cheek on the way down.

“What? Oh. Like, uh, going down on me?” His voice sounds wrecked, almost squeaky with how surprised he is at coming that hard and the offer after. 

“Is that what it’s called? I’ve heard it’s nice” 

“It’s really nice. Here, hold on” Fjord takes a second to get strength in his arms and legs again, but once he’s able he scoots out of his lap, turning to face him and letting his thighs fall open. He’s certain he looks sloppy, flushed skin and wet thighs, but he can’t find the heart to care with how Caduceus is looking at him. Fjord’s just about to instruct him along before Caduceus shoves him a little to make room for him to lie between his thighs. Now that’s quite the picture. Fjord imagines how his face might look with slick across his chin and nose and he presses his lips together to keep himself from saying what he shouldn’t. Cad’s lips drag across one of his thighs and he laughs to himself, looping his arms around his legs to keep the spread. 

“Have you done this before? If its too much—“

“Nope” He sounds happy though, and Fjord is about to urge him on when there’s suddenly a warm tongue between him. He curses and props himself up on his elbows to watch, ignoring how they’re already shaking under the sudden responsibility. Caduceus' piercing eyes catch his own for a second and Fjord has to look away, flush crawling across his chest again. He does catch Caduceus' eyes sliding shut and his brows knitting together in concentration as he hums against him. That alone feels nice enough, but then he’s lapping slowly at his cock and his thighs are shaking against his ears. Fjord’s about to warn him that he might come again if he does that, but he’s reminded of how long that tongue is when it dips into him for a second and his hips jerk, eyes rolling behind his lids. Caduceus seems to be catching on, using his hands to spread him open so he has room to fuck into him with his tongue. Its only a moment of consistent humming before he stills again, keening against his mouth as he comes one more time, hands flying to tangle in the mess of pink hanging in front of his face. Fjord’s panting and shaking by now, near overstimulated and he guides his mouth away with a sob. That desperate sob fades into an exhausted laugh of a sigh and he presses his thighs together to stop their shaking.

“You know, you tasted just as good as you smelled. Sorry if that’s weird.”

Fjords about to make a face and laugh at the admission, but he doesn’t, instead he drops his hands from his hair and drags them up through his own as he stretches. 

“That’s actually really hot, Caduceus. I, uh, wow” He breathes a low whistle and sits up to face him, hand hovering out between them. 

“Do you want me to touch you? I’d hate to be selfish.” Fjord realizes then that he isn’t even sure that Caduceus was in this for the sex of it at all, but because he wanted to help. And my god, did he help. Fjord’s exhausted now, his eyes heavy and his legs tingling with the aftershocks of his second orgasm.

“Oh no, believe me, that did enough for me as it is.” He smiles though and Fjord settles, a little grateful with how heavy his body feels at the moment. He isn’t sure he could manage to touch him like he deserves right now, and that wouldn’t be right to hold back from him if he did want it. “—though maybe next time I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”

Fjord feels his chest expand suddenly at that, his heart aching warmly against his ribs. Its a feeling that he thought maybe somehow he wasn’t meant to feel in this life. That heat that moves bards across the planet to desperate song, and yet he can't sing. But he can hold, he can kiss, he can simply be: and hopefully Caduceus takes that. He kisses him firmly on the bridge of his nose, shuddering a silent praise for only him to hear.

Caduceus’s strong arms come up to wrap around him, turn him on his side, and press him closer into the fuzz of his chest. There’s no words to be spoken between them. Its quiet. Its warm. It’s soft. 

Fjord is going to be okay.


End file.
